Nightmares
by DarthSukiMomo
Summary: Ever since the Origami Killer case, Jayden has been having a hard time with nightmares. They haunt him every night, every time he tries to sleep, and it's left him weakened over the months following. Though, he found there is only one thing that keeps the nightmares away and gives him a sense of warmth and comfort that no horrible rainstorm can smother; Carter Blake.


Jayden never honestly disliked the rain in the city. Granted, back home it never so much as poured a fraction as it did in Philadelphia, with its dreary and long, fall days. At times it simply proved a marvel to the FBI agent that the city didn't just drown in the massive amount of water that rains down upon it day after day from a dark and sullen sky.

It was late in the afternoon, though the sun hadn't even managed to slip through a small gap within the mass of gray clouds above. So instead there was a constant dull and gloomy vastness above him, which had obscured the sight of any actual sky for a few days now. And in all honesty, Jayden was almost starting to get more and more depressed every time he looked above his head at the muddy crime scene.

The sight of such a sky always brought back memories from his last case in Philadelphia. Ones that he very much cared to forget.

He was still having a hard time with that.

But day in and day out he did what he could to make personal issues and distaste to the downpour weather as minimal as possible. Instead the agent put every thought he could muster into the case, though that didn't really help much to the effect he would have cared for it to. A missing child, little girl, only seven years old. All they had to go from was the site where she was presumably taken, the old park just off the center of town. And when the young man finally had a chance to check it out the rain had all but become a general downpour of water, but he moved through it regardless, pulling his shoes from each sticky step in the mud without complaint.

Jayden found Blake without any problem, drawn towards the officer from the sound of his yelling at his subordinates for them to 'hurry their asses up'. Definitely Blake. The FBI agent hummed once to himself as if he even could have questioned the thought that the man, rough and harsh as ever, was anyone other than Carter Blake. A glare from said man when Jayden stepped closer, rain pouring around him by the bucketful and making he almost have to hold his arms tighter around himself from the cold, reassured that it was indeed the egotistical asshole he had worked with before.

"Found anythin'?" Jayden cast a soft look in the other's direction, trying his best to ignore the ongoing glare. Blake huffed once and responded, though at first his words were muffled by the raw sound of rain falling around them.

"Some, though most of it is just plain ol' crap." Another huff and the older investigator was looking away from Jayden at last. Which was good, considering the FBI agent was sure that the feel of those hard, dark eyes would pretty soon put him into a frenzy. They were always so strong, searching, probing, as if they could stare deeper than Jayden ever gave them credit for. And it seemed as if they were always focused on him.

The conversation shifted from one topic to another about the young girl, from her mother's report, to what the police have found, to even what the local weather report had shown for the next two days. The rain around them seemed less and less a problem, just one hard sound that pounded in their ears and wetness that rolled down the flesh of numb cheeks. The mud below their feet stuck with every step, though it was surprisingly Blake who complained more of it than Jayden did, since the older officer had practically lived in the muddy streets his entire career with how much work he put into it.

Finally the conclusion was reached, deciding to send extra patrol cars around the area, since the rain washed away most of what could be found even with Jayden's observations and ARI. As disappointing as it was for the FBI agent to have come down a two hour drive from New York to find next to nothing, it didn't turn out all that disappointing when both he and Blake had reached the police cruiser. Jayden was more than prepared simply to walk the few blocks down and retrieve the car he had been given for the case (a good one; working system and nice mileage) but he wasn't so much able to take a step away from Blake and down the sidewalk before he was grabbed by the arm.

Soft brown hair flipped in wet chunks over the young man's face as he turned around, staring back at Blake with underlying question.

Blake returned the gaze, grip getting softer and softer before his fingers unwound about the other's slim and sopping wet wrist. There wasn't the sound of a single word between the two men; there didn't have to be when they both knew what the other was thinking.

Norman blinked once, soft, and after casting a worried glance down the street and to the direction he knew his rental car had been parked, looked back towards the Lieutenant. Blake almost always looked like he acted-a big jerk that a person probably wouldn't even stand to be around. But sometimes, rarely, the young FBI officer would catch a glimpse of odd softness in the very same eyes. The eyes that had once held such hatred and scorn for him could instead contain the sense of genuine affection and concern.

In the past year, Jayden had begun to see more of that, with every case that he and the Lieutenant were put together for.

With numb lips, Norman attempted a smile and nodded his head, the sense of water still dropping in harsh little pinpricks against his icy skin. He could always retrieve his car later. The promise of something else, something warm that Blake always tried to hide in his expressions, was far too nice to even think of rejecting.

Within minutes they were in the older man's car, Jayden sitting quietly in the passenger-side seat, with a single, calloused hand lightly rubbing a thumb in small circles over the top of his thigh. The gesture was more than appreciated, with all that the small, younger man couldn't keep from flickering in his head. Memories didn't always die away with time.

"...You still remember?" The softness, genuine as it was rare, was nearly shadowed out by the rain pattering against the glass of the car's windshield. And Jayden knew the question was only for his sake; it was a mutual understanding that what had happened hadn't effected Carter as badly as it had everyone else. And sometimes that was nice, was so good when the younger could just sit and talk to the other, just talk and babble on for almost hours about what had happened, what he did, how scared, how worried, how he was always so strained when the nightmares came.

And while Blake could have always been the ass Jayden once knew him to be, it was a blessing and true gesture of affection that the Policeman would just sit there and listen. Of course he would color the story with a few choice words here and there, but nonetheless it was proven that even Carter Blake could be genuinely kind, could be...loving. Jayden would always feel grateful for that.

With his head turned and his eyes staring out the window, it took Jayden several long moments to come up with a proper answer. "I..." he started, then swallowed the growing lump that was forming deep in his throat. Was it normal to still be affected by it? Though it wasn't as if he could have used Blake as an example of psychological integrity after such a traumatic event, it still made the agent pause in his answer. He licked at his lips absently, noting their growing chapped skin, and spoke. "...It's just the nightmares."

Blake said nothing for a while, and in that time it was only the softness of rain and thunder that permeated the air between the two men. The nightmares. The very ones that left Jayden thrashing about in his sleep, screaming and gasping for air. The ones that made the man wide-eyed in terror, his hands and body shake almost as bad as they had during the Triptocain incident the year past. Even before the start of their odd, unlabeled relationship, Jayden knew that Blake had known about the nightmares, and had a number of times even been there at Jayden's bedside by the time his sane sense of thought finally returned to him.

"Are they...?" The open question was filled silently, leaving Jayden only to close his eyes and try to focus on the rain pattering all around them, on the glass and metal, leaving behind only soft clear streaks that rolled down the surfaces like liquid gems. The rain was both so calming and so very, very terrifying. It was from the rain that he remembered, and from it that the nightmares came crawling into his head night after night. Only during rainstorms.

The younger man hummed softly, not exactly in reply, and turned to look at the street ahead of them as they drove on. The hand over his thigh pressed harder a second, a split second indication that Blake was about to speak, though Jayden already knew what he was going to say. Carter was always so predictable; it was a cute aspect to his character honestly, especially when Jayden knew exactly what the other man was going to say to try and comfort him.

"You know you can talk about it," It wasn't exactly what the FBI agent had assumed the man would say (normally he probed, asking for details or curious what it was about), but the sentiment was the very same. Blake's eyes were staring forward, one hand on the wheel and the other still pressing, squeezing around Jayden's slender thigh. "I'm not all that good at givin' a crap for other people's sob stories, normally, but..." The words were left open-ended yet again, and this time Jayden allowed himself a smile at the other's poor attempt to hide his affectionate concern.

A slender pale hand slowly covered atop Blake's own. And for a moment, the young man peered down to look at their hands together, a mesh of light and dark skin. One that was young, untouched by almost anything besides files and papers, while the other was tanned and calloused with years of experience. The slim pale fingers slipped around to hold that hand underneath his own, and slowly pulled it up to press a single kiss to the skin.

The feel of it was warm and comforting, and for a moment it was all Jayden could focus on. The soft pattering of rain, the rumble of the car, the diluted sunlight barely able to streak through the grey clouds. It was everything he loved and wanted, everything to keep reminding the agent that his nightmares were just that-nightmares.

Jayden pressed another kiss to the back of Blake's hand, and then another, and another still. "...I know," he whispered at last, voice barely able to rise above the constant white noise of rain. After a moment, Jayden found himself nuzzling the hand, marveling simply at it's warmth against his cold cheek. Amazing how Blake's hands were always so warm. Maybe it was because he always kept them in his pockets at crime scenes, always tucked away and leaving the ever-curious Jayden to meander about and search for the detailed clues. Well, that was just how the two of them liked to work; Blake was a better interrogator anyways, no sarcasm intended.

"Hrmph." Blake wasn't moved by Jayden's lack of a proper answer, but he didn't try to force for more. Instead he turned the car down another road, into a small housing subdivision. Though they had been in this situation time and time again, the younger Jayden would still be unable to say exactly how to get to Blake's house. Each and every time that Blake drove them there, he had found himself enthralled or taken by some aspect or another, be it the soft sound of rain to lull him into a light nap, or the comforting sensation of calloused fingers caressing and stroking through his hair and over his face.

There really was a softer side of Blake that nobody seemed to know about, nobody except for Norman Jayden.

A few minutes later and Blake was parking the car in a long driveway, just in front of a humble little home. It was bigger than what Jayden had always expected of the Lieutenant, but it held nothing less than a warm, humble sense about its walls. The color was soft, and there was a small bed of flowers growing just beyond the porch. Jayden often wondered if it was Carter that did the gardening, though the mental image of the rugged man actually kneeling down always through him into a denied fit of muffled laughter; Carter must have someone hired to do that. When the car came to a stop, Jayden almost wanted to give a muffled sound of distaste when the man had to pull his hand away from Jayden's lips and cheek.

But the moment didn't last too long; soon the both of them were out of the car and moving to the front door. Norman couldn't for a moment deny the sense of affection that bloomed in his heart (the only thing that wasn't drenched from the rain) when the younger man felt a strong arm almost instinctually wrap itself around his thin waist.

"Here."

The word was soon accompanied by a sudden blurred shape of a mug pressed to Jayden's face. He blinked out of surprise and leaned back, then took the offered cup after a moment of internal curiosity. It was warm in his hands, and he held it firmly out of need for the warmth that it offered against his palms. When he peered inside, he found light brown liquid swirling inside, a few streaks of dark brown decorating it's surface.

"Thanks," Jayden managed, though he wasn't exactly sure at that moment what it was that the other man had handed him. A brief sniff and tentative taste revealed it was some form of hot cocoa or another, and a greater enthusiasm came to drink it with that slight realization. The man took a few more sips, tongue pressing out to catch the stray droplets that stubbornly decided to cling to his still-cold lips and mouth, before he spoke a few soft words. "...it's...nice."

The liquid was scalding hot (if the steam still rising above the mug was any indication), but Jayden liked the flavour. It was soft and undoubtedly chocolaty, a rush of needed warmth that smothered every ounce of cold and numbness down his throat until it started to swell and bloom through his entire body. It smoothed over his tongue with the powerful taste of partially mixed milk and chocolate.

Carter gave a firm grunt that pulled Jayden's attention away from the mug. With green eyes flashing over to the police lieutenant, the response was as quick as it was sheepish. "I don't make it a lot." When Jayden pulled up a curious brow, the older man merely rolled his eyes and made a flustered hand gesture towards the mug. "The frickin' cocoa. I don't make it a lot."

"I didn't say anything against it," Jayden offered with a slightly bemused smile. Carter grunted again and rolled his eyes; it was evident that he himself wasn't holding a mug, seemingly having made it only for Jayden. For some reason it created the softest sensations of bashful warmth blossom over the young agent's cheeks. He took another sip and listened as Carter continued on.

"You were lookin' at it funny. But in my defense, you're the only person I bother myself to make it for. You should feel pretty freakin' special, Norman." After a sharp huff of air from his mouth, Carter leaned back against the doorframe, staring almost too-firmly upon Jayden from a few paces back behind the couch. Why the man didn't just come and sit down next to Jayden, he would never honestly know. Nonetheless, it was something that Jayden was used to with the other.

"Well, I'm grateful." The FBI agent hummed softly, giving the other one genuine, warm smile before returning to drinking it.

The room was left in silence for a few minutes. Jayden had quickly finished the drink, and set the empty mug down on the table. Blake was nowhere to be seen, and in all honesty it didn't take away the growing sense of security that surrounded the young man like a soft, warm cover over his body and mind. Wherever Carter was, it probably wasn't anything that Jayden needed to worry himself over anyways.

It wasn't long before he found himself lounging on the couch, lightly tugging a nearby throw blanket to pull over himself. Coupled with the sound of the ongoing rain outside, it wasn't hard for Jayden to close his eyes and start to drift off into a gentle, peaceful nap. It had been weeks since he had any good sleep; the nightmares always kept him up at all hours of the night, and the FBI agent had yet to find anything other that could work.

Ironically, the only thing that helped was also in the middle of everything that continued to remind him of what happened a year past. Carter Blake. Jayden could taste the cocoa still on his tongue, taste it's imperfections, it's obvious truth that Blake had made it himself (badly or not) for Jayden. Carter Blake actually cared, as much as his tough guy act tried to hide it away.

Jayden wasn't sure how he woke up at first. The gentle rush of sound in his ears, the realization of warmth surrounding his body, or maybe to a lesser extent, the sensation of an arm wrapped around his waist. When the haze of sleep finally faded from his eyes, the young man gave a soft gasp. He wasn't on the couch anymore; hell, he wasn't even sure that he was in the living room. He looked around lightly for a moment or two, then quickly identified where he was; Carter's bedroom. He had become familiar with the room over the past couple months.

The arm tightened itself around Jayden's lithe waist, and it caused him to turn his head back slightly in curiosity. He found the peaceful, sleeping face of Blake laying just behind him, owner of that very arm. The sight actually relieved Jayden, who quickly turned his body around so he could press himself closer to the other man and the deep warmth that his muscled, half-nude body offered. Skin pressed against skin, and the question of why Jayden himself was stripped down to his boxers didn't even have a chance to enter into his brain.

Blake woke up from the movement of Jayden's body adjusting about. He grunted once, then grumbled a low couple choice curses into the cool air before letting his eyes flutter open. They locked into Jayden's own after merely a moment, and the connection between them was clear as it was silent.

Jayden didn't ask, and Carter didn't answer. The situation had happened a number of times, though normally Norman would simply find his way into the bedroom and fall asleep on the bed directly. One way or another it was nice, warm and perfect, and the man simply couldn't help himself from nuzzling into that heat, lips brushing ever so slightly over Blake's throat.

"Hey," he said softly.

"...Hey," Blake responded in kind. His arms adjusted so Jayden could move into the position he wanted, laying on his side and pressed firmly into Carter's body. "Y'fell alseep on my couch."

"Thanks, captain obvious," The lighter voice was muffled somewhat, but it didn't do much to mute any of the amusement in his tone. "I can only assume you undressed me?"

"Yes." The sound of a smirk was almost deafening from the older man. Damn, smug attitude of his. "But I didn't do anythin' to you." One of his hands rubbed gentle, almost playful little circles against the dark-haired agent's back. Jayden knew he was only joking; they had come a long way from cold insults and hate-filled glares at eachother. While at one time the man would have seen Carter's words as nothing less than hurtful, he found them now...almost genuinely affectionate, covered by Blake's silly attempt to hide their real purpose. And it was cute; almost, at least.

Norman Jayden hummed a short reply, taking a great solace in the fact that his mind was actually clear from any nightmares. Instead in taking their place was the sensation of heat. Heat, affection, and the need to have Blake continue holding him close. Jayden couldn't find a single bit of him that felt or wanted otherwise. It was the only time in his life over the past year when he wasn't chased by demons and haunted by memories.

Blake was the only thing that kept Jayden from going insane, sometimes. He was the man's anchor, even if he could still and always be a selfish jerk. He always had been, even before Jayden showed up a mess on a day of investigation between the two of them, his eyes darkened with lack of sleep, and his body almost constantly shivering from exhaustion.

And since then, he and Blake (silly or stupid as it was) were almost always together. In the times where Jayden didn't have to report back home, he spent almost all of his time with the older man, reveling with his companionship in public, and his intimacy and physical warmth in private. Maybe he could have even call it a relationship. One way or another it worked; the young man couldn't think of spending his nights with anyone other than Carter Blake.

The bed shifted around, and Norman noticed easily when the larger form beside him moved. "...Had any nightmares?" Carter asked lightly, almost cautiously upon settling again. He liked to be sure, Jayden had come to notice, and that aspect alone gave the man a near-loving aspect to his person. Norman shook his head and smiled, not letting the other have a change to see his grateful smile.

"No." The answer was short and simple, just the way Jayden liked it. He had never a nightmare when he was with Carter.

The police lieutenant breathed, soft and slow, before moving his body about so their legs tangled together. Arms pressed around Jayden's body, and he noted absently how Carter almost tried to push them flat against each other underneath the blanket. "Good," he replied softly. "Then get yourself some sleep, Norman."

And that he did, nuzzling close to the gentle heat of Blake's body, falling asleep with gentle smiles on both of their faces. There were no nightmares for the rest of the night.


End file.
